Adopted Son
Linda Warren

www.millsandboon.co.uk

I dedicate this book to the readers who’ve e-mailed

and written to me asking about the McCains and

encouraging me to write another book about the

family. And especially to those readers who come

to the signings and stand in line waiting for a

book. You keep me writing. You keep me going.

Thank you.

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

A special thanks to Dottie Kissman and her daughter Phyllis Fletcher for sharing their Austin with me. And to all the nurses who answered so many of my questions.

Also Sergeant Frank Malinak, Texas Ranger, for so graciously answering my pesky questions.

Any errors are strictly mine and all characters are fictional.

CHAPTER ONE

“OFFICER DOWN! Officer down! We need help.”

Gunshots punctuated the frantic call that came through on Jeremiah Tucker’s police radio. He listened closely to the dispatcher’s response.

“There’s a pile-up on I-35. Hold on. Help is on the way. We’re routing someone there now.”

Tuck’s hands gripped the steering wheel. He’d known of the wreck, and had taken a detour on 12th Street through an Austin residential area. He was near the address, and unable to ignore a fellow officer in trouble. He swerved onto Springdale Road then sped down another street and whipped into a trailer park.

As a Texas Ranger, he didn’t usually answer calls. His job was investigating crimes, but this was different. Every second counted and it sounded as if the officer was short on seconds.

He pulled up behind a police vehicle, both doors of which were flung wide. An officer knelt on the graveled road, half lying against the seat of his squad car, shouting into his radio.

The trailer faced the road. Two old rusty vans were parked to the right, and a dog pen was to the left, shaded by a large oak tree. An officer lay facedown in the middle of the overgrown yard.

Tuck jumped out and ran to the officer by the car. “What’s the situation?”

The officer gasped for breath, one hand clutching the radio, the other clutching his upper arm as blood spurted through his fingers. Blood pooled on the gravel and his blood-covered gun lay on the seat. “We answered…a domestic call. As we walked up to the trailer someone…someone opened fire. I crawled back here, but Brian is hit bad. I can’t get to him. The idiot keeps…firing.” He gasped another breath. “Where in the hell is everybody? Brian needs help.”

“They’re on the way.” Sirens blared faintly in the distance. “Take a deep breath and try to relax.”

“I can’t, man. Brian is…”

“Let me take a look at your arm. Relax.”

“Help Brian, please,” the officer wheezed and slumped onto the seat.

Tuck checked his pulse and then the wound. A bullet had ripped straight through his upper arm, tearing open flesh, muscles and veins. Tuck’s main concern was the bleeding. He reached for his handkerchief and tied it tight above the wound. Soon the bleeding stopped. He felt the officer would be okay. He’d just passed out from loss of blood.

The sirens were drawing closer, but weren’t close enough. Tuck surveyed the scene and glimpsed a rifle poking out of one of the windows. The dog pen was made out of chicken wire and two pit bulls thrashed at the fence, testing the strength of the flimsy wire and barking aggressively at the downed officer in the yard. Any minute the structure was going to collapse like a cheap umbrella.

Tuck didn’t have any time to waste. Bending low, he darted to his vehicle, all the while keeping an eye on the rifle and the dogs. The officer on the ground moaned and Tuck knew he was still alive, but he needed medical attention immediately.

Several shots exploded, kicking up dirt around Brian. One nipped Brian’s shoulder. His body jerked. Tuck had to do something fast or the officer didn’t stand a chance.

Without another thought, he zigzagged toward the house. A shot blasted near his head, knocking off his hat. The sound burned his ears, but Tuck didn’t pause. He rolled and landed up against the cool aluminum siding on the front of the trailer—the rifle above his head.

Adrenaline chugged through his body like hillbilly moonshine. He sucked in a controlling breath, knowing the guy couldn’t get off a shot at that angle. Staring at Brian, Tuck debated how to get to him. Suddenly he heard loud voices, a woman’s and a man’s. He couldn’t make out the words, but they were angry. The curse words he heard clearly.

Standing slowly, Tuck considered the situation. The rifle was to his right. He could jerk it out of the man’s hands but before he could act, the gun was pulled inside. The voices grew louder, as did the cursing. The trailer shook from the impact of something thrown against a wall. Tingly sounds of glass breaking mingled with loud thuds.

Curtains covered the windows so Tuck couldn’t see what was going on inside. The only uncovered opening was the small pane on the front door. Taking a deep breath, he eased up the concrete steps. The voices weren’t close now—they’d moved farther down the trailer. He took a quick peep through the pane and saw complete chaos—broken furniture, dishes, junk, clothes and clutter everywhere.

But no people.

Drawing back, an image registered in his mind. It couldn’t be. He glanced again to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He wasn’t. Among the clutter was a small boy, probably not even two years old, sitting in a corner chewing on a bag of dog food.

OhmyGod!

His heart sank, but he couldn’t let himself think about the boy now. He had to get to the officer while he could. Leaping from the steps, he sprinted to Brian, grabbed him beneath his armpits and pulled him toward the trailer out of harm’s way.

Agitated, the dogs threw themselves at the fence, barking, growling, wanting a piece of the officer. And a piece of Tuck. He kept one eye on them, praying the wire would continue to hold.

The sirens rolled closer. An ambulance and police cars roared up the street and came to a screeching halt, spewing gravel onto the trailer. Quickly, Tuck searched for the officer’s pulse. It was faint, but it was there. He was still alive. Thank God. Tuck sagged against the trailer.

Two officers ran to his aid, guns drawn. Three more officers followed, crouching beside Tuck.

“What’s happening?” an officer asked.

“Not sure. There’s a man in the trailer with a rifle.” Tuck gulped a breath. “I heard two voices, a woman’s and a man’s. And there’s a kid, too.”

“Damn.”

“This officer needs medical attention,” Tuck told him. “Another officer by the squad car has been hit.”

“Damn. We have to get him out of here. Has the shooter fired lately?”

“No. I think he’s at the end of the trailer by the dog pen. This is your best chance to move Brian.”

The officer motioned to the ambulance and it slowly backed in. “Hold on,” he said to Brian. “We got you covered.” He then shouted orders to the others.

Two other officers grabbed a gurney and had Brian loaded in seconds. The ambulance pulled away, stopping by the squad car to pick up the other wounded officer. Sirens blared full strength as the ambulance tore away.

Shots rumbled through the trailer then there was total silence. Even the dogs quieted down.

Officers wearing protective vests and carrying high-powered automatic weapons swarmed the trailer. One kicked in the door and they charged inside. Tuck followed. He had one goal—to get the kid out.

In the narrow hallway a man and a woman lay in a pool of blood; blood also coated the walls. They appeared to be dead. Drug paraphernalia was scattered on the kitchen table. Tuck turned away and walked directly to the child.

The boy was dirty, his hair matted, his clothes stained and ripped. A telling smell emanated from him and Tuck knew he probably hadn’t had his diaper changed in a while. The kid seemed oblivious to what was going on around him. He continued to chew on the small bag of dog food.

Tuck squatted down. “Hey, buddy, that’s not for you.” He reached to take it away and the boy grunted and bit his hand.

“That’s not nice,” Tuck said, and tried to take it again. The boy shook his head and held on with both arms. Tuck recognized the kid was hungry.

“Oh my God!” one of the officers said, staring at the kid.

“Keep an eye on him.” Tuck stood and searched the cluttered cabinets for food. He found nothing but dishes, pots and pans, junk, beer, cigarettes and liquor. “I’ll be right back,” he told the officer. “Don’t take your eyes off him.”

Tuck hurried to his car. He always kept peanut butter crackers in the glove compartment in case he didn’t have time to eat. Going up the steps, he held open the door for the justice of the peace, who had just arrived on the scene. He would have to declare the people dead before they could be moved to the morgue. Another ambulance rolled up, waiting among the swarm of police cars. Neighbors gathered outside in the cool March breeze.

Tuck went back to the little boy, who was still clutching the bag, his slobber all over it. He squatted again, showed him the crackers and handed him one.

“I’ll trade you, buddy. You…”

His words trailed off as the boy grabbed the cracker and stuffed it into his mouth. Before Tuck could react, the kid snatched the other crackers out of his hand, poking them into his mouth as fast as he could.

“He’s starving,” the officer remarked.

Tuck stood. “Yeah. And he’s filthy. He’s probably been neglected for a long time.”

“Sergeant Dale Scofield,” the officer said and stuck out his hand.

“Jeremiah Tucker, Texas Ranger.” They shook. “I was passing through the area and heard the call.”

“Thanks for the help.”

The crime scene people had arrived and Tuck and the sergeant stepped over trash to get out of the way.

“What do you think happened here?” Tuck asked, although he already had a good idea.

“This is a rental property and my guess is the woman was turning tricks and the man was a dealer or a pimp. There’s a naked man dead in the bedroom. Something went wrong that ticked off the shooter. Maybe he came home and found her with a guy she wasn’t supposed to be with. Who knows? An investigation might turn up something, but we’ll probably never know what really went down.” The sergeant glanced at the boy. “What kind of mother brings a kid into this type of situation?”

“A very bad one,” Tuck replied, watching the boy as he continued to wolf down the crackers. “Has Child Protective Services been called?”

“Yeah, someone is on the way. And the animal shelter’s picking up the dogs.”

Two paramedics pushed gurneys inside, waiting for the word to remove the bodies. Tuck reached down and picked up the boy. He figured the kid didn’t need to see anything else. The boy swung at him with his fists, making angry sounds, but Tuck gathered him up to get him out of here. The kid was like a wild animal and Tuck had a hard time controlling him.

An officer ran to him with a box of doughnuts and a plastic cup of cola with a straw in it. “Sarge said to find all the food we could,” he said. “This is it.”

“Thanks,” Tuck replied, trying to hold down the kid’s hands. “Just put it on the hood of my car.”

“Sure.”

Tuck sat the boy on the hood, again noting his powerful odor. “Hey,” he called to the officer. “See if there are some diapers in the trailer. He needs to be changed.”

“Will do. And the name’s Mike.”

“Thanks, Mike.”

The kid snatched the drink and sucked greedily on the straw. Evidently he’d had sugary drinks before.

“Hey, buddy. Slow down.” Tuck opened the half-empty box and wondered if the boy could eat a doughnut or if too much food all at once was good for him. He closed the box, deciding to just let him drink the cola. They’d have him in the E.R. soon enough.

The little boy’s face was dirty and his matted hair greasy and long. Wary brown eyes glanced at him from time to time much as a starved animal would—on guard in case Tuck tried to take the drink away.

Anger churned inside Tuck at what had been done to this little life. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the bodies being loaded out. How could a mother do this to her own child?

Mike came running back. “I couldn’t find any diapers, but here are a couple of towels.”

“Thanks.” Tuck placed them on the hood.

“I have diapers.” A lady in her fifties walked up with a diaper bag slung over one shoulder. “I’m Opal Johnson, caseworker.” She glanced at the kid. “So this is the little boy I was called about?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tuck replied, and introduced himself.

Opal wrinkled her nose. “I assume that odor is coming from the baby.” Without waiting for a reply, she plopped the bag on the hood and pulled out a diaper and baby wipes. “Let’s see if we can’t make him smell better.”

Tuck spread out the towels and laid the boy down. He didn’t object; he was too busy sucking on the straw. Tuck held the cup to one side so it wouldn’t spill all over the kid.

Opal pulled the boy’s pants down and undid his diaper. “Oh, no!”

“What?” Tuck glanced down and his stomach burned with fury. Urine and feces clung to the baby’s butt in infected sores. It looked as if the baby’s diaper hadn’t been changed in days. He had to be in tremendous pain.

“Watch him for a moment, please,” Opal said.

“What are you going to do?”

“Call for another ambulance.” She reached for her cell in her pocket. “This baby needs medical attention immediately.”

Tuck looked down at the boy, chewing on the straw. “It’s going to be all right, buddy. I promise.” He patted his chest and the boy slapped his hand away. “That’s okay. You hit all you want. You deserve to hit someone.”

“An ambulance is on the way,” Opal said. “It was headed for the wreck on I-35, but all casualties have been picked up so it’s coming here.”

“Good.”

Tuck helped Opal bundle up the baby in the towels as an ambulance whizzed into the drive. Opal carried the boy to the paramedics, talking to them for a minute before running for her car.

The ambulance screeched away and Tuck hurried to Opal. “May I have your phone number? I’d like to follow up with the boy. See how he’s doing.”

She gave him a strange look but rattled off her number. Tuck reached for the pad in his pocket but realized he’d lost his pen, probably somewhere in the yard.

“Don’t worry, Ranger Tucker,” Opal said, starting her car. “I’ll call you.”

Tuck heaved a sigh as the vehicles disappeared out of sight. He was left standing alone while the crime unit members worked inside the trailer. Neighbors stood in their yards, talking and watching. Tuck’s hat lay on the lawn and he walked over and picked it up.

The March wind ruffled his hair and he swiped a hand through it, staring at the bullet hole in the top of his hat. Damn. He’d bought the Stetson about two months ago and had just broken it in. Oh well, better a hat than his life.

He crawled into his car with a weariness he hadn’t felt in a long time, the weariness of life and its cruelties. In his line of work he saw a lot of cruelty, but this particular incident hit close to his heart.

Tuck himself had been abandoned as an infant, left in a cardboard box at the Tuckers’ mailbox. The Tuckers, who took in foster children, had adopted him. He’d often wondered about the woman who had left him there. When he was younger he’d carried a lot of resentment about being thrown away, but as he grew older he realized the enormous gift he’d been given—the gift of a life. His mother had to have known the type of people the Tuckers were, and must have known they would give her son the best.

And they had.

How Tuck wished that little boy’s mother had been as selfless.

LATER TUCK SAT in his mother’s old rocker on his porch, soaking up that feeling of home. He still lived in the Tucker house, outside of Austin, and he probably always would. His mixed-breed terrier, Samson, better known as Sam, and his Siamese cat, Delilah, called Dee, lay at his feet. The cedar from the porch columns wafted to his nostrils, calming him. Laden rosebushes, his mother’s pride and joy, covered the back fence. Soon they’d be in full bloom. His horses galloped in the pasture, enjoying the brisk wind blowing through the Texas Hill Country.

This was home.

After a harrowing day, it was always great to come back here, the only home he’d ever known. His parents were gone now, but his foster brother, Eli, lived about half a mile down the road on the same property. He and Eli were the two kids who stayed forever with Jess and Amalie Tucker. Eli’s mom was Jess’s niece and she’d brought Eli to live with her uncle when Eli was thirteen. At that age Eli had been wild and uncontrollable, rebelling against a father who’d never claimed him.

But Ma and Pa worked their magic and Elijah Coltrane turned into a fine young man, becoming a Texas Ranger just like Jess Tucker. That’s all Tuck and Eli ever wanted to be.

They’d inherited equal parts of land, but Tuck had inherited the house. Even though he had family close, some days he felt so alone.

All his friends were married and had families. He was the lone bachelor, but marriage wasn’t for him. He wasn’t sure when he’d first decided that. Eli said it was because he didn’t know who his parents were, but Tuck thought there was so much more to it.

It probably had all started when he’d turned sixteen, got his first vehicle and started dating. He had a crush on one of the popular girls in school and he’d asked her out, but she didn’t want him to pick her up at her house. He’d always met her at the mall or the movies. Thinking that was strange, he’d told her that he would pick her up at her home. He had a truck and he wanted to show it off.

She’d told him he couldn’t because her parents didn’t approve of him. That shook him. He was a good kid; he was Jess Tucker’s son. She said it wasn’t anything against him personally; it was those other kids his parents took in. Their parents were druggies, drunks, felons, and her parents didn’t want her anywhere near those types of people.

Tuck reminded her he was one of those people. She said he was different, but he wasn’t. For the first time he realized there was a stigma attached to foster kids and abandoned kids. He never dated the girl again, nor did he want to. He was proud of his parents and he hated that the seed of doubt had been planted in his mind.

In college he fell in love for the first time. Rachel said she loved him, too. They started to make plans and they talked about children. He’d told her that he didn’t want to have children of his own. He tried to explain that he felt it was selfish of him to bring his own children into the world while there were so many others who needed a good home. She informed him quickly that she wasn’t raising someone else’s troubled kids.

He saw her in a different light then, but realized that he was asking a lot of her and broke it off. He was glad he found out her opinions before instead of after the marriage, though. A love he thought was forever died suddenly. That was an awakening in itself. The most powerful love he’d ever known was the love his parents had given to foster kids. It was selfless. Empowering. He saw it every day of his life as he was growing up.

So many abused and abandoned kids had come through their home. Under Ma’s and Pa’s love and care he watched battered kids grow strong, confident. All it took was one caring person to change a life.

He wanted to do that—to give back what he’d been given as a child. Ever the optimist, he had given love another try. Bethany worked at the courthouse and he saw her often. They talked about the future and she told him he was a wonderful man for wanting to help others, especially children. He relaxed, feeling secure in their love. Soon he asked her to marry him and he was happy in the knowledge that he’d found someone who understood him.

Her girlfriends had thrown them a big engagement party. There were a lot of people there whom Tuck didn’t know and he was eager for the evening to end. Toward midnight, he went in search of Bethany. She and a couple of her friends had disappeared about thirty minutes before.

He went upstairs to the bedrooms. A door was slightly ajar and he heard her voice. He thought they were talking girl talk and he didn’t want to intrude, but then he heard his name and something kept him rooted to the spot.

Even today he could remember the conversation almost word for word. Hannah, Bethany’s friend, said how brave Bethany was for agreeing to Tuck’s plans of taking in foster kids and not having any of their own.

“Oh, please,” Bethany had said. “Tuck doesn’t mean any of that stuff.”

“He seems pretty serious to me.”

“After we’re married, I can change his mind, and if I accidentally get pregnant, well, oops.”

Tuck pushed opened the door then and as they’d stared at each other, they’d known it was over. That pain cut deep and his trust in women took a tumble. He didn’t want a woman to change him or pay lip service to his wishes and plans. He wanted a woman to love him for who he was and he’d finally accepted that wasn’t going to happen. So he decided he could achieve his dream alone.

He took a swallow of beer, putting the past out of his mind. His thoughts strayed to the little boy. Tuck had called the hospital and they said he’d been treated, sedated and was resting comfortably. He’d go to the hospital first thing in the morning.

He heard a car drive up, but he didn’t move. It was probably Eli. Living so close together, they had keys to each other’s houses. Eli would check the house first then the back porch.

“Hey, Tuck. We thought we’d come for a visit.” The French door behind Tuck opened and Eli stepped out onto the porch with his six-month-old son, Jesse, in his arms. He had a diaper bag slung over one shoulder.

“Hi.” Tuck smiled at his nephew, a replica of Eli except for the blond hair, which was like his mother’s. Tuck held out his hands and Jesse wiggled to get to him. Eli plopped Jesse onto his lap.

Tuck raised him into the air and the baby gurgled loudly. “I see him almost every day and each time he seems to get bigger.” In that respect Jesse took after Eli, who was over six feet, well built and muscled.

“I know. It’s hard for Caroline to cart him around in the carrier.” Eli tousled his son’s hair. “So how was your day?”

Tuck told him about the little boy.

“Ah, man. That’s bad.”

“I’ll check on him again tomorrow. I hope they find him a good home.”

“They will.” Eli shook his head at the whole ugly mess. “I need a beer.” He turned back into the house. “Want one?”

“I got one,” Tuck replied, pointing to his beer on the table.

Jesse was fascinated with Tuck’s shirt pocket, sticking his fingers in and out, chewing on his fingers and then doing it again.

“You’re one lucky little boy,” Tuck told him. “You have parents who will never let you down.”

Jesse bumped up and down on Tuck’s knees and made cooing sounds. Unable to resist the baby, Sam reared up on Tuck’s thigh, wagging his tail. Jesse wriggled trying to get to the dog. Smiling, Tuck let him touch Sam and Jesse’s excitement grew.

Eli came back, a Bud Light in his hand. “Do they even know who the little boy is?”

“They’re investigating now.”

Jesse gurgled again, drawing their attention.

Eli sat on the edge of the other rocker, watching his son. “I’m thinking about calling him Jess. I know Jesse was on Pa’s birth certificate and Caroline liked it at the time, but now that he’s older I like Jess. It’s what everyone called Pa, anyway.”

Tuck rolled his eyes. “Could you be more transparent?” Eli and Caroline had decided to name their son after Eli and Tuck’s foster father.

“What?”

“Jesse sound too feminine for you?”

Eli took a swallow of beer. “Maybe.”

Tuck bounced the boy on his knee. “What does Caroline think of the idea?”

“She rolled her eyes just like you did.”

Tuck laughed, and it felt good to talk nonsense with his brother. “Pa said as he grew older everyone started calling him Jess. It will probably be the same with Jesse.”

“Yeah. And Caroline won’t think I’m a macho pig.”

“Caroline doesn’t ever think that about you.”

“Hmm. She understands me better than anyone.”

Tuck raised an eyebrow. “And believe me that’s not easy.”

“Come on, I’m a big old teddy bear these days.”

Tuck just grinned. Caroline had changed his brother for the better. He was softer, more approachable. He and Caroline were good for each other. Tuck envied that. He wasn’t jealous because he was happy for them. They’d found something rare—true love.

He wasn’t so jaded by past experiences that he didn’t believe in love anymore. He did. But for him life was different. His goals were different from most men’s. He knew a lot of his attitudes had to do with the circumstances of his birth, but so far he hadn’t found a woman to change his way of thinking.

At his age, he didn’t think that was ever going to happen. That was fine, too. He was content with the choices he’d made.

“Is Caroline working tonight?” Caroline was a professional photographer and often worked late.

“No. She had a magazine shoot this morning that ran into the late afternoon. Mr. Fussy Pants here is teething and wouldn’t sleep when he was supposed to. Caroline is soaking in a hot tub and I’m giving her some quiet time.”

Jesse tried to jam both fists into his mouth, chewing away as slobber ran down his chin.

“He’s trying to eat his hands,” Tuck remarked.

Eli dug in the diaper bag and handed Tuck a cloth. He waved a teething ring in front of Jesse. “Chomp on this for a while, son.” Jesse clamped onto the ring.

Tuck wiped Jesse’s chin. “Does he keep y’all up at night?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why don’t you go home and unwind with Caroline,” Tuck suggested. “I’ll watch Jesse.”

Eli jumped to his feet. “You got a deal.” He kissed the top of Jesse’s head. “Daddy will be back later.” Eli paused in the doorway. “This is where he’s supposed to cry because I’m leaving him.”

“He’s not going to cry.” Tuck bounced Jesse up and down. “He’s happy with Uncle Tuck.”

“Yeah. I’ll pick him up later.”

“Take your time. I don’t have plans.”

After Eli left, Tuck grabbed the diaper bag and went inside. Sam followed. Dee decided she’d rather stay outdoors. He gathered toys out of the bag and eased down on the area rug. Jesse crawled all over him instead of playing with the toys, the teething ring firmly gripped in one hand.

Jesse poked his fingers in Tuck’s eyes, ears, nose and mouth. Tuck wiped away slobber and just enjoyed the wonder of this curious child. He thought about kids and how some were born into privilege and others into horrible circumstances. Trying to understand why would be impossible. And he probably wasn’t supposed to. That’s why there were people like Jess and Amalie Tucker—to even the odds.

At that moment he felt incredibly lucky.

Maybe that’s why he felt so strongly about his plans to one day refurbish the farmhouse and take in foster children. Every child needed a chance like the one he’d been given.

A knock at his back door interrupted his reverie. He swung Jesse into his arms and got to his feet.

“We got company, Jesse.” He wiped away more slobber. “Wonder who it is?”

He stopped at the door. Grace Whitten, Caroline’s sister, stood on the other side of the screen. He pushed it open, his heart knocking against his ribs the way it always did when Grace was near. He never quite understood that because the woman could annoy the hell out of him with very little effort.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Jeremiah.”

He tensed and felt that seething annoyance creep up his spine. No one called him Jeremiah but Grace.

“But I was over at Caroline and Eli’s and no one answered the door. I…” Her words halted as she held out her hands to Jesse. “Come to Auntie Grace. I should have known they were here. Both their vehicles are at their house.”

Jesse practically leaped into her arms.

Traitor.

“Hi, precious,” Grace cooed as she walked in without an invitation.

“Don’t call him precious,” Tuck said, closing the door.

Grace turned to face him. “Why not?”

The objection had come out of nowhere and he couldn’t explain it. Maybe it had something to do with the talk he and Eli had had earlier about the macho stuff. He could blame Eli, but obviously he had issues about boys being boys and girls being girls. Or whatever. Grace had a way of making him nuts. He’d blame her. That was easier.

He waved his hand. “Never mind.”

Grace glanced around his kitchen and den for Caroline and Eli. He watched the patrician features of her face. She had to be the most reserved, uptight woman he’d ever met. Her exterior was cool, composed. Always. He’d never seen her any other way and he’d known her for four years.

Grace was a dedicated career woman. Dressed in a navy suit, white silky blouse and high heels, she wore her blond hair pulled back in a neat knot at her nape. Not one hair was out of place. Ever. Perfect came to mind when he looked at Grace.

Perfect and beautiful.

Untouchable beauty.

Like a mannequin on display.

He wondered what would happen if he reached up and took the pins out of her hair. Would she be transformed into a woman with emotions and needs? He shook his head to rid himself of that insane thought. Grace was the head of the Whitten Law Firm, following in Congressman Stephen Whitten’s footsteps. Everything in her life she did to please her father.

He often thought that Grace was programmed not to show emotion. But the moment she held Jesse he knew he was wrong. Her features softened and her green eyes sparkled. He had a hard time looking away, which surprised him.

“They’re not here.”

It took a moment for him to realize what she was talking about. “No. Eli and Caroline are not here.”

“Where are they?”

“At home.”

She nuzzled Jesse’s face. “I was just there. They didn’t answer the door.”

“They’re busy.”

“What are they doing that they can’t answer the door?”

He hitched an eyebrow. “A husband and wife are home alone. I have the baby. Use your imagination.”

“Oh.” A slight flush stained her cheeks, but her composure quickly returned. “I’ll call Caroline later.”

Sam reared up on her skirt. “Down, Sam,” he said.

“Oh, my.” She brushed at the skirt with her hand as if to rid it of germs while juggling Jesse in her arms. “Do you think it’s wise to have a dog in the house with the baby?”

He clenched his jaw. “Caroline doesn’t have a problem with it.”

They stared at each other and as always the battlefield lines were drawn. His way. Her way. No in-between.

“I’d better go,” she said stiffly.

“That’s a good idea.”

He reached for the baby, but Jesse had Grace’s blouse clutched in his fist. As he took Jesse, the baby didn’t let go. A button came undone, then another, revealing a lacy bra and a rounded breast.

Grace grabbed her blouse and Tuck tried to pry open Jesse’s little fingers. In his efforts, Tuck’s hand brushed against Grace’s soft, pliable skin. Her delicate perfume filled his senses and a jolt of awareness shot through him. He stared into Grace’s eyes and what he saw there shocked him.

Was she attracted to him?

Or was he attracted to her?

CHAPTER TWO

STARING INTO Jeremiah’s sensuous dark eyes, Grace felt as if she were teetering on the edge of something momentous. Her heart did a fancy two-step in her chest. All she had to do was reach out and touch him to feel the fire and warmth she saw in his eyes. That action would take her to places unknown and awaken…

As if sensing her need, his strong body tensed and she collected herself. She quickly kissed Jesse’s cheek and walked out, clutching her blouse together in her hand. A musky whiff of aftershave seemed to follow her.

Why did every encounter with Jeremiah turn out like this—bad? They just never made the connection that could make them friends. Or much of anything else. A family acquaintance—that was the sum total of their relationship.

Driving home, she tried to put the incident out of her mind.

At her apartment, Grace slipped out of her clothes, folded them neatly and laid them on a stack to take to the cleaners. Running a hand across her collarbone to her chest, she could still feel Jeremiah’s fingers against her skin. Her response to his touch had been a delicious sensation that melted her bones.

Had her eyes given her away? For four years now she’d wondered what it would feel like if he touched her intimately. Wonderful. Heavenly. And she tried very hard to hide it. She was good at hiding her emotions.

She wasn’t sure when she’d acquired that ability—probably when she was young and her parents would leave her and Caroline with the nanny while her father was campaigning or furthering his career. Caroline always spoke her mind, but Grace kept her feelings inside, wanting to be perfect for her father. Back then that had been important to her. Now being her father’s puppet was wearing a little thin.

Her work had always completed her, but lately she was feeling a restlessness she couldn’t explain. Or maybe she could. Her life that once filled her every need now instilled in her a sense of dissatisfaction. After much introspection, she recognized the cause. Somewhere along the way she’d lost sight of who she was. Her career was rock solid, but the woman in her was fighting for survival.

She knew that. And still she struggled.

She wasn’t a big success in the romance department. Men who found her attractive always wanted something from her—a job, a step up the ladder or an introduction to her father. Well, that wasn’t quite true. There had been men who had liked her for herself, but nothing serious had ever developed. She’d had a couple of flings in college, which left her wondering what the fuss was all about.

From an early age she knew she would follow in her father’s footsteps and become a lawyer. That’s what was expected of her and she never saw her life any other way. Her focus was on her career. After becoming a lawyer and with several years of experience under her belt, she took over the Whitten Law Firm, which had been held in trust for Stephen Whitten’s daughter. She started at the top of the ladder, but she had to fight every day to stay there.

Romance had taken a backseat in her life until she was introduced to Jeremiah Tucker. When she’d looked at his tall lean frame, chiseled features and dark penetrating eyes, her mouth and brain fell out of sync, which was very rare for her. As a lawyer, she was always in control. But the first time they met she’d insulted him. She hadn’t meant to. He just had a strange effect on her. She hadn’t realized until later that it was sexual attraction. Sadly, the feeling wasn’t something too familiar to her.

After Eli had introduced them, she questioned why anyone would call him Tuck when Jeremiah was such a pretty name. The way he’d looked at her spoke volumes, but being a Ranger he was very polite and never mentioned her rude behavior. After that, Grace had a hard time getting her foot out of her mouth in his presence. Something about Jeremiah always short-circuited her mouth and her brain.

How she wished he had the same attraction for her. But he thought she was bossy, uppity, neurotic and about as appealing as global warming. He tried to avoid her at all costs, which was no secret to her. With their connection to Eli and Caroline that wasn’t always possible, though. He tolerated her because of them.

Her fingers splayed across her chest. How could one touch make her feel so—she thought for a minute—so alive? Her skin felt warm and her senses danced like pixies drunk on cheap red wine.

She must be coming down with something, she thought as she slipped into lounging pajamas. Pixies drunk on cheap red wine. Ridiculous. One touch shouldn’t make her think such silly things. She wasn’t sixteen years old. She reached for her briefcase and headed to her study to work.

With her mind deep in legal issues, her hand rested on the spot he’d touched.

Damn you, Jeremiah.

TUCK LAY AWAKE wondering about the incident with Grace. They’d been thrown together at weddings, parties and family gatherings but tonight was different. She seemed different. He was different, too. He had to admit that. The shock of touching her soft skin had knocked him for a loop.

What had he expected her skin to feel like?

Annoyed with the stupid question, he flipped over. He made a point of keeping Grace at arm’s length. Now he wondered why he’d felt that need. The answer was easy. Grace was way out of his league and a neat freak, almost to the point of being obsessive. She drove him crazy.

Staring into the darkness he realized she was driving him crazy now. She’d left so quickly that he hadn’t had a chance to gather his thoughts or apologize. Just as well. He didn’t feel inclined to change the status quo of their relationship. Grace wasn’t a one-night stand or a woman he could walk away from without a guilty conscience. And he would eventually walk away. He somehow always did.

As he drifted into sleep, soft green eyes stared back at him.

Grace’s eyes.

THE NEXT MORNING Tuck went to his office early, checked his messages, made a couple of phone calls and then headed for the hospital. He met Sergeant Dale Scofield in the lobby. They shook hands.

“How are your officers?” Tuck asked.

“Great. Both are going to be fine. Darren’s wife is waiting to take him home this morning. Brian was hit in several places, but not in any vital organs. Thank God. The surgeon said he should recover completely.” The sergeant looked at Tuck. “I’m so glad you came on the scene when you did. Your quick action probably saved their lives. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Tuck said, feeling uncomfortable. He was a lawman. His actions came naturally and praise wasn’t required or easy to accept. “I’m glad I could help.”

“How’s the baby?” Dale asked, and Tuck was glad to change the subject.

“I’m on my way to check on him. Did you find out any info on the mother?”

“Yep. Nicole Harper is a fine piece of work. Her mother had the little boy until about three months ago. His name is Brady, by the way. She assured her mother she was clean and getting her life straight.”

“Is the grandmother going to take Brady?”

Dale shook his head. “No. She’s in the last stages of lung cancer. That’s why she let Nicole take the boy.”

“Are there any other relatives?”

Dale rubbed his jaw. “I haven’t had time to check. Our workload is bursting at the seams. CPS will handle it.”

“Do you mind if I lend a hand? I want to make sure Brady finds a good home.”

“Heck, no. That little boy needs all the help he can get.”

Tuck thought the same thing. “Do you have any info on Nicole or the men in the trailer?”

“We’ve received calls there before. The guy, Cliff Davis, is a small-time drug dealer with a temper. The calls were about drug deals and twice about him beating Nicole, but she refused to press charges. My officers interviewed a few neighbors and they said there was a steady stream of guys going into the trailer. They knew something wasn’t right, but didn’t want to get on Davis’s bad side.”

“Did no one think about Brady, an innocent kid in the middle of that environment?”

“Evidently not. Sad, isn’t it?” The sergeant checked his watch. “I’ve got to get to the station. Thanks again for your help yesterday.”

They shook hands again. “No problem.”

Tuck took the elevator to the pediatric ward. Opal was at the nurses’ station so he walked over to her.

“Ranger Tucker.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and handed a file to a nurse. “I was just fixing to call you.” Opal’s dark hair was threaded with gray and the lines on her face denoted a life of toil and anguish—all given selflessly.

“How’s Brady?” he asked.

“Know his name, do you?”

“I met Sergeant Scofield in the lobby.”

She sighed. “This one slipped through the cracks.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nicole Harper has been in the system for a while and we slipped up. After the last visit, the caseworker filed for a random drug check. She suspected something wasn’t right, but she became ill about three weeks ago. No one was reassigned to Nicole’s case and the test wasn’t done. This is unacceptable.”

Tuck liked this woman. Fighting for children was her top priority. “What’s the story on Nicole Harper?”

“She was raised by a single mom and had a pretty normal childhood until she got into high school. Then she started doing drugs and finally dropped out. She went to work at a fast-food place and got involved with the manager. When she became pregnant, she tried to stay clean, but right before Brady was born the boyfriend, Braden Hollis, died in an auto accident. Nicole spiraled out of control then. Wilma, her mother, couldn’t handle her. Nicole delivered Brady and quickly got back with her old friends and the drug scene. CPS took Brady away from her when a motel clerk called and reported her for prostitution and doing drugs with the baby in the room. Wilma was granted temporary custody.”

“Didn’t CPS try to get her some help?”

Opal touched his face. “You sweet man, I bet you believe in fairy tales, too.”

“What’s wrong in believing there’s a better life? Sometimes it just takes one person to accomplish that.”

“Nicole Harper got hooked on drugs fast and furious and that’s all she thought about—how to get more drugs.”

“Still…”

“She was offered help many times. She always refused. Six months in jail changed her some. When she got out, all she wanted was her kid. Wilma was battling lung cancer and thought Nicole had changed. But it wasn’t long before she was back with the old crowd. It’s hard to break that cycle once it starts.”

“Why wasn’t Brady taken into custody then?”

“Did I mention that Nicole is a very good liar and knew how to put on a show? I love my kid. My kid is the most important part of my life. Yada. Yada. Yada. Once the caseworker leaves, she’s hitting the bars looking for guys and drugs. And the kid is usually left home by himself, or worse, taken along. We just never could catch her at it—until it was too late. We have so many cases it’s difficult to keep a constant vigil on these girls.”

Tuck knew that. It was just a sad scenario that the kids were the ones who paid. “How’s Brady this morning?”

“He was so violent in the E.R. that they had to sedate him. He was just scared. They checked his vitals, started an IV and did blood work. Nobody knows how long he’s been neglected and we have no idea what he’s been eating. He could have even been drinking from the toilet.”

Tuck winced.

“I’ve seen it before. He may only be fourteen months old but even at that age a kid fights for survival. He could have digested nonfood items, even toxic items. They’re testing for drug exposure, anemia and lead poisoning. The main concern was dehydration, so that’s the reason for the IV. They want to keep his electrolytes under control. Since his sores are infected, they’ve started a round of antibiotics through the IV.”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“I’m on my way to talk to Wilma. I know she won’t be able to take him, but there might be a relative who wants to raise him.” Opal threw the strap of her big purse over her shoulder. “How would you like to come with me, Ranger Tucker? Get an up close and personal view of life’s real fairy tales.”

“I’d love to, but first I’d like to take a look at Brady, if that’s okay.”

“Sure. Follow me.”

They walked across the hall to a room full of baby beds. A large glass window gave the nurses a clear view of each crib from the nurses’ station. Two nurses were attending to the needs of children with various ailments. Opal stopped at a bed against the wall.

Tuck removed his hat and stared down at Brady. He lay on his stomach, completely naked except for a small blanket covering his upper body. His bottom was bloodred and had ointment spread over it.

“They’ll put a diaper on him as soon as he wakes up,” Opal said. “They’ve debrided his wounds and applied a barrier cream.”

Brady’s hair had been shaved off and Tuck saw the infected sores on his scalp, too. He fought the anger churning in his stomach.

Opal glanced at him. “They had to shave his head to clean the sores and remove dead tissue. There are sores between his toes, too. It had been a while since he’d had a bath.”

Tuck kept staring at the little boy. He slept peacefully, as a baby should. At that moment Tuck vowed that Brady would have a decent home and never be neglected again.

WILMA HARPER LIVED in the projects on a cul-de-sac. Tuck parked his car and followed Opal inside the brick duplex. A neighbor and a hospice nurse were there. Wilma sat in a recliner with an oxygen tank beside her, gasping for every breath. She’d been told of her daughter’s death and held a box of Kleenex in one hand, her eyes red.

In her early forties, Wilma looked twice her age. Her pallid skin, skeletal frame and sunken eyes denoted a woman who was terminally ill.

Tuck and Opal sat on a worn brown sofa. He took in the room. The walls were made of cinder blocks and painted a pale tan, which was yellowing. Linoleum squares of the same color covered the floor. Some of the floor had eroded from wear, leaving the stark concrete visible.

Opal was right. This was the flip side of a fairy tale.

“How’s Brady?” Wilma immediately asked Opal.

“He’s going to be fine,” Opal replied, and introduced Tuck.

“This is all my fault,” Wilma wailed, then sucked in a whiff of oxygen.

“No, it isn’t,” Opal told her. “Nicole is your daughter and you trusted her.”

“I spoiled her. That’s the problem.”

“Ms. Harper,” Tuck spoke up. “We’re trying to do the best thing for Brady now.”

“Yes.” Wilma sniffed. “I want that, too.”

“Is there a relative who might be able to take Brady?”

Wilma shook her head. “My relatives are…struggling to make ends meet. I can’t think of anyone…who can give Brady the kind of care he needs.”

“What about Brady’s father’s family?” Opal asked.

Wilma took a breath of oxygen. “After Braden’s death, his parents divorced and remarried. They have new families and…I don’t think they’d be willing to take him.”

The hospice nurse handed Wilma a glass of water and she sipped at it, her hands shaking. “I wish I could take him. He needs me.” Tears rolled from her eyes.

The neighbor, a black lady in her thirties, rubbed her arm. “Don’t get upset, Wilma.”

“My baby girl is dead,” Wilma wheezed, and sucked in more oxygen. “Seems like yesterday she was watching cartoons and eating Fruit Loops.”

“I know,” the lady consoled her.

Wilma gasped for air then looked directly at Tuck. “Please find someone to love my grandson. He deserves that.”

Tuck’s throat felt dry. “I promise, ma’am. I’ll make sure he has the best home possible.”

“Thank you,” Wilma whispered. “And make sure he has his stuffed dog. He carries it everywhere…and sleeps with it.”

Tuck and Opal eyed each other. “What does the dog look like?” Tuck asked.

“It’s blue and made out of that really soft fabric.”

He stood. “I’ll see that he has it.” Tuck twisted his hat in his hand. “I’m real sorry about your daughter, Mrs. Harper.”

Outside, Opal eyed him. “You really meant that, didn’t you?”

“Sure.” Tuck placed his hat on his head. “It’s sad when anyone dies like Nicole did.”

“Yeah, but I was talking about the dog.”

“Yes, ma’am, I meant that, too.” Tuck fell in step beside Opal. “I’ll find the dog and I’ll make sure Brady gets a decent home. He’s been through enough.”

“I’ll put some feelers out. There are always couples looking for small children. In the meantime I guess I’d better track down the father’s family.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll handle that.”

“Mind?” Opal lifted an eyebrow. “You’re like an angel sent from above. You’re certainly a cut above other law enforcement officers I’ve worked with.”

“I was left as an infant, so I know what getting a good home means.”

“Well, bless my soul, aren’t you something?” Opal stopped in her tracks. “You’re one of a kind, Jeremiah Tucker. It’s good to remember where you come from, and it’s even better to give some of it back.”

“Thanks, Opal. I’ll call when I have any news.”

He strolled toward his car, feeling better about the situation. With a little luck, he was hoping that one of Braden’s parents wanted Brady.

Back at his office, it didn’t take long to track them down. Bruce, the father, lived in Dallas and had married a woman with three small children. He said his wife wouldn’t be willing to take on another child. He was sorry and hoped they found Brady a good home. The mother, Eileen, lived in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her new husband had had an accident and was paralyzed from the waist down. She had her hands full and regretted she couldn’t take Brady.

Tuck stared at the phone, wondering why neither had asked about Brady’s recovery or his well-being. Brady was their grandchild, their flesh and blood. Yet they seemed not to care.

Tuck ran his hands over his face, hoping that Opal could find the perfect family for Brady.

Perfect.

He thought of Grace. Uptight, repressed—that was how he thought of her. How he needed to think of her, but last night was different. For a brief second she’d let down her guard and so had he. The image was playing tricks with his mind.

And it shouldn’t.

His friends the McCain brothers teased him about Grace. He and Grace were the only two single people left in their group and they were often paired together, especially at weddings. His friends saw that as a sign. Maybe he needed to stop being so touchy. Maybe…

His thoughts halted as he noticed the time. It was Friday and he was late for a brother’s meeting. Even though he wasn’t a McCain, Tuck was included because he was Eli’s foster brother and a good friend. Eli’s father was Joe McCain, but Eli had never carried the McCain name because Joe denied he was Eli’s father.

The McCain family had been a mess. He couldn’t understand how a father could walk away from his own son, not like Joe McCain had walked away from Eli. Beau and Caleb had been the lucky ones. They had lived with their mother, but the old man had raised Jake. Now the brothers had all made peace with each other and their dysfunctional father, who had passed away years ago.

Opal was wrong. After a tumultuous childhood, the McCains had found true happiness. It did happen.

He headed for his car and Salado, which was a quaint, historic town between Austin and Waco. It was the midway point for Beau and Jake, who lived in Waco, and Caleb, Eli and Tuck, who all lived around Austin.

When he arrived at the small diner, he recognized all the cars parked in the lot. He hurried inside. It was a typical small-town café: hardwood floors, booths, red gingham tablecloths and a jukebox in a corner. A Willie Nelson tune played in the background.

“Where have you been?” Eli asked in his best grumpy voice as Tuck took a seat.

Tuck ordered a beer and told them about Brady.

“Man, I don’t know how y’all handle things like that,” Jake said. “I’ll stick with raising cotton and corn. That I can control. Well, that is, if Mother Nature cooperates.” Jake ran the McCain farm outside of Waco.

“I see a lot of it,” Beau added. “Then parents who have abused their kids want them back. It’s hard when you get a judge who will grant that.” Beau was the lawyer in the family.

“This is turning into a downer,” Eli said. “Let me tell you guys what Jesse is up to.”

“We know what Jesse is up to.” Tuck took a swallow of his beer. “He’s chewing on everything in sight.”

“That’s the truth.” Eli leaned his forearms on the table. “I think he might be growing fangs instead of teeth.”

Jake raised his beer. “Here’s to a lot of sleepless nights.”

“Oh, man.” Eli downed a gulp of his beer and looked at Caleb. “How’s Josie?”

Caleb was also a Texas Ranger and he and Josie were expecting their first child. “She’s sick as a dog in the mornings. She’s taken a desk job, which I’m very grateful for. But I didn’t tell her that. Can you imagine a pregnant cop with mood swings carrying a gun?”

The brothers laughed.

“I suggested that she take a leave of absence from the force until after the baby comes. That didn’t earn me any points. I just worry about her.”

Eli slapped him on the back. “It comes with the territory.”

Beau sat twisting his bottle, which wasn’t like him. He was the talker in the group.

“You’re going to rub a hole in the table,” Jake told him.

“What?” Beau glanced up.

“What’s up with you?” Caleb asked.

“I’m almost afraid to say it out loud.”

No one said a word as they waited for Beau to speak.

“Macy’s pregnant.”

The brothers jumped up and pumped Beau’s hand, which gave way to hugs.

“Oh, man,” Caleb said, smiling. “When’s she due?”

“In November.”

“Josie’s due in October. Two McCain babies born in the same year.” Caleb beamed with excitement. “Have you told Mom and Dad?”

“We told them last night.”

“And Mom’s kept it quiet all day?” Jake lifted an eyebrow.

“We wanted to tell everyone ourselves,” Beau replied. “And, believe me, Mom’s bursting at the seams to tell someone.”

“This is wonderful,” Jake said, hugging Beau again. “Except Katie is going to start bugging Elise and me again for a baby. When Jesse was born, we heard about it nonstop.”

Eli grinned. “You know how to fix that.”

“Oh, no.” Jake shook his head. “A boy and a girl, we’re done.”

The brothers kidded back and forth. Tuck was the last to hug Beau. “Congratulations, man.”

“Thanks.”

Macy’s first marriage had ended in divorce because her baby daughter had died from a genetic heart defect. Since Macy carried the gene, she refused to have more children. Beau and Macy had adopted Zoë, a baby of Macy’s sister. But now they would have a child of their own. Tuck knew that wasn’t an easy decision for them to make.

All his friends were happy with families and children. It was wonderful to see. Suddenly he saw Brady lying in that hospital bed—he had no one. Brady needed someone to love and care for him. Without even having to think about it, Tuck knew he could be that someone.

“I’d better go,” Caleb said, grabbing his hat. “Josie’s home by now and I can’t wait to tell her.”

“Me, too,” Eli added. “My wife needs a break from the chewing monster.”

“Remember you guys promised to come to one of Ben’s Little League games,” Jake reminded them.

“We’ll be there,” Eli and Caleb promised at the same time.

Goodbyes were said and Tuck turned to Beau. “Could I speak to you for a minute?”

“Sure.” They resumed their seats at the table after the others had left.

“I know you’re anxious to get home,” Tuck said, now nervous about what was going through his mind.

“I’ve got a minute for a friend.”

“Congratulations on the new baby. I’m real happy for you and Macy.”

“I know and thanks. We’re excited and nervous.” Beau eyed him. “What’s going on?”

Tuck looked straight at him. “I’d like to adopt Brady.”

CHAPTER THREE

FOR THE FIRST TIME since Tuck had known him, Beau seemed speechless. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.” The more he thought about it, the more real the idea became. “Brady needs someone and no one in his family wants him. I’ve always planned to take in kids, so I’ll start a little earlier than I thought. Will you help me gain temporary custody pending an adoption?”

“You know I will. But think about this.”

“I’ve thought of very little else since I saw Brady chewing on a bag of dog food.” Tuck shifted in his chair. “Can you believe that? They bought food for the dogs, but not for the baby.”

Beau grimaced. “Man, that’s awful. I can see how upsetting it would be to find a baby in that situation. But this decision will change your whole life. Are you ready for that?”

Tuck nodded. “I know there’ll be some adjustments, but I really believe I’m ready.”

“Okay. I’ll start on the paperwork tomorrow and call you when I’m ready to file it.” Beau paused.

“What?” Tuck asked, sensing something else was bothering Beau.

“Be prepared for some hard questions from the judge.”

“Like what?”

“Your job for starters. What do you plan to do with Brady during the day?”

“I haven’t thought it through, but by the time the hearing rolls around I’ll have a plan. Mrs. Wiggins lives down the road from me. She’s a retired teacher and now keeps her small granddaughter. She might also be willing to watch Brady. I’ll talk to her. And there’s a small day care two blocks from my office. I’ll check it out, too. I can make this work, Beau.”

Beau played with the paper napkin on the table. “I have no doubt you can. You’re my very good friend and I love you like a brother, but I have to be honest.”

“I wish you would.”

“It’s very difficult for a single male to gain custody of a child, especially one that is not his biologically.”

“So you’re saying I don’t have a chance.”

“I’m saying it will be difficult and I want you to be aware of that. I’ll be behind you one hundred percent, though, making sure the judge knows what an incredible man you are. And what a wonderful father you’d make.”

Tuck relaxed. “Thanks, Beau.”

Beau studied him for a moment. “I don’t suppose there’s a woman in the picture whom I don’t know about.”

“No.”

“What happened to that police officer you were dating?”

Tuck shrugged. “It wasn’t serious.”

Beau lifted an eyebrow. “Is it ever?”

“Not lately.”

Beau leaned back in his chair. “I’ve never questioned your personal life or your life’s choices. That’s your business, but as your lawyer I’ll have to delve deeper. I have to be able to argue convincingly in front of a judge that you, a single male, would be the best parent for Brady Harper.”

“I understand. Ask all the questions you want.”

Beau looked straight at him. “Why do you feel that taking in foster kids is exclusive of marriage and having children of your own? Your adoptive parents were married. I’m not clear on why they didn’t have kids of their own, though.”

“Ma had a miscarriage early in the marriage and the doctor couldn’t stop the bleeding. He ended up doing a total hysterectomy.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“She worked in an office for a while then Pa was asked by the FBI to help nail a firearms dealer from Mexico. When they captured the guy in El Paso, he had his five-year-old daughter with him. He’d kidnapped her from her mother in South Carolina. Pa said the little thing was frightened to death and he became attached to her. He talked CPS into letting him take her home to Ma where he knew she would get special care. Ma kept her for three days comforting her and letting her know she was safe. The mother was so grateful to have her daughter back. Ma said after that she knew what she wanted to do and they helped hundreds of kids over the years, including Eli and me.”

“I’ve heard the stories.” Beau leaned forward. “But I still don’t understand completely why, to you, taking in foster kids is exclusive of marriage and having your own kids.”

“The marriage thing just hasn’t worked out for me.” Tuck twisted his empty beer bottle, knowing he had to share parts of his life for Beau to understand him. “Have you ever seen a two-year-old who’s been hit so hard that his jaw broke into four pieces and punctured his eardrum?”

Beau shook his head.

“Have you ever seen a four-year-old who’s had a pot of boiling water poured over him because he wouldn’t mind?”

Beau winced and shook his head again.

“Have you ever seen a six-month-old baby girl malnourished and with cigarette burns all over her body?”

Beau held up a hand. “Stop. You’re going somewhere with this, so please just get there.”

“Those three cases are vivid in my memory. When the grandmother in Arkansas was finally awarded full custody of the six-month-old, she didn’t even resemble the battered baby that had come to live with us. Ma rocked and sang to her and doctored her burns. Eli and I did, too. She was a laughing, happy child and we were sad to see her go. But there are so many kids like that, Beau. The violence and abuse never stops. I just would feel selfish bringing more children into the world when there are so many who need someone.”

Tuck looked at his friend. “I’ve had these goals of taking in foster children ever since I witnessed how one person can change a life. Ma and Pa did it every day. I learned everything about life from them. I feel its something I have to do. I feel it’s something I need to do.” With his thumb, he peeled the label off the beer bottle. “I like being with a woman just as much as the next guy, but I haven’t found anyone to change my mind—or anyone to share my goals. Eli says it’s a mind-set because of the circumstances of my birth, but it’s much more than that.”

Beau eyed him with a strange look on his face. “You feel very deeply about this.”

“Yes. Brady needs someone and I can be that someone.”

“You’re a better man than me. I don’t think I could give up so much.”

Tuck shrugged. “I’m different. I guess I’ve always known that.”

“And you wish your friends would stop trying to change you.”

“No. I know they care about me and I need that, too.”

“Well, Tuck, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re granted custody of Brady Harper.”

“Thanks, Beau. I’d appreciate that.”

“And I sincerely hope that one day you find a woman to share your incredibly selfless dream.”

Tuck grinned. “Ah, a romantic.”

“You bet,” Beau said. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Helping Brady would make me happy.”

Beau patted his shirt pocket, searching for a pen. “Do you have the caseworker’s name? I’d like to find out all I can about Brady—to make our case as strong as possible.”

Tuck handed him a pen and gave him the information. They walked out together. “I’m really happy about the baby, Beau. Give Macy my congratulations.”

“I will and thanks.” They shook hands and hugged briefly. “You’re a rare man, Jeremiah Tucker, and I’m proud you’re my friend. I’ll call as soon as I have any info.”

Tuck swallowed back emotions as he slid into his vehicle. He sat for a moment savoring that bond of friendship. Backing out, he reached for his phone and called Sergeant Scofield. He wanted to go by the trailer and look for the stuffed dog so Brady could have it when he woke up. The sergeant gave permission and Tuck went by the station for a key.

Darkness had fallen by the time Tuck arrived at Brady’s so-called home. He saw the yellow police tape that surrounded the trailer. Getting out, he noticed the dogs were gone but the vans were still parked in the yard. There was an eerie quiet about the place.

He went up the steps and unlocked the door. As he flipped a switch, a light came on. Good. The electricity hadn’t been turned off yet. A distasteful odor greeted him. It was indescribable. Death came to mind. He shook off the feeling, glancing around.

Clothes, trash, junk and broken dishes cluttered the floor. He kicked some of the mess out of the way and walked to the spot where he’d found Brady. The toy was lying in the place Brady had sat. Tuck hadn’t even noticed it before.

Picking up the stuffed dog, he saw it was filthy, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Brady had the toy when he woke up. Tuck locked the trailer and drove to the hospital. It was late, but he went anyway.

Outside the ward, a nurse stopped him. “I’m sorry. Visiting hours are over.”

He introduced himself and explained about the stuffed animal. “His grandmother said he takes it everywhere and even sleeps with it. Brady will probably be less upset when he wakes up if he has the dog.” He showed her the toy. “It’s filthy, but I’m not too sure if it can be washed or not.”

She eyed him for a second then took the dog. “Usually all stuffed animals can be washed. We have a washer and dryer here so I’ll wash it and Brady will have it by morning.”

Tuck hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but nurses had a lot to do and she might forget.

“Don’t trust me, huh?”

Tuck looked into her honey-brown eyes and realized she was flirting with him. She was attractive, with short brown hair and a slim figure, but tonight he wasn’t interested.

“By the way, my name is Jennifer.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jennifer.” He motioned to the toy in her hand. “I just want Brady to have the dog.”

“He will, Ranger Tucker. I promise.”

“Good. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Tuck nodded and walked off wondering if he was losing it. A beautiful woman, a willing smile and he didn’t act on it. What was he looking for? He suddenly saw green eyes and an uptight expression.

Grace.

Why couldn’t he get the woman out of his head?

THE NEXT MORNING Tuck was at the hospital early. Opal was at the nurses’ station so he slipped in to see Brady. He was still lying on his stomach, but in a different direction and he had on a diaper and a gown. The dog, all clean, was tucked under his arm.

He stood there staring at this little boy whose life might become a part of his own. Suddenly he wanted that more than anything—to love him, to make sure he never went hungry and that no one ever harmed him again. He could do that. He could be Brady’s father.

“Are you the officer who brought the stuffed animal?”

Tuck turned to look at a woman sitting by the next bed, where a little girl in a pink gown slept. Machines were attached to her head and her chest. “Yes,” he replied, and introduced himself.

“I’m Barbara Wilcott and this—” she glanced at the baby “—is my daughter, Molly. That’s very nice, what you did.”

“Thank you.” Tuck walked around Brady’s bed to stare at Molly. Her head was bandaged and she had an IV in her arm. “How is your daughter?”

“They removed a tumor from her brain three days ago. She hasn’t woken up yet. We keep waiting.” Barbara brushed away a tear.

Tuck felt a lump in his throat. “How old is she?”

“Two.”

“She’s very lucky to have you.”

Barbara wiped away another tear. “And that little boy is lucky to have someone so caring looking out for him.”

Opal entered the room, preventing Tuck from responding. “I pray your little girl recovers,” he said instead, and walked over to Opal.

“How’s Brady?” he asked.

“He’s much better. They took out his IV this morning.” Opal set her purse on the floor. “He should wake up at any moment. I just spoke with the nurse and she said they’ll start the refeeding process and watch him closely. The problem with kids this age who’ve been deprived of food is they’ll binge on everything in sight. She said they’ll start with formula and work up to solids, taking it slowly.”

“Does anyone know how long he was without food?”

“We’re guessing about three to four days. The neighbor saw Nicole with Brady about four days ago, but she hasn’t seen Brady since. Nicole has been in and out, but no Brady. We think Davis cut off her drug supply and she was out looking for another fix. She found the guy who was dead in the bed in a bar. Davis came home at the wrong time, or maybe for Brady it was the right time. Just so sad.” Opal shook her head.

“Yeah. But Brady’s going to be okay, that’s the main thing.”

Opal nodded. “I got your message about the grandparents. Sad, but I see it all the time. Some can’t do enough. Others just walk away, but that’s okay. We’ll find Brady a really good home.”

“I’m thinking about adopting him.” Tuck thought this was as good a time as any to tell her.

Those tired blue eyes opened wide. “You talked your wife into taking him. That’s wonderful.”

“I’m not married.”

Opal frowned. “What?”

He knew what that frown was about. “Is there a law that says a single male can’t adopt?”

“Heaven forbid, are you from another planet?”

He tensed. “I take offense to that.”

“Take all the offense you want. I’m just being honest. I know you care for Brady and you’ve formed a connection to him. But I’ve been in this business long enough to know that a judge rarely grants custody to a single person, especially male.”

“But it’s not unheard of?”

Opal pushed her glasses up her nose. “I wish you would have told me this yesterday. I’ve already let people know we have a fourteen-month-old up for possible adoption. We’ll get responses—” she looked directly at him “—from couples. And a judge will go for a family structure first.”

“I know,” Tuck admitted. “But I have to try.”

Opal shook her head again. “You’re a rare specimen, Ranger Tucker.”

Tuck had heard that before.

Brady moaned and they turned their attention to him. He rolled over, winced as his bottom touched the bed, but he didn’t cry. He sat up and stared at Tuck and Opal.

“Why isn’t he crying?” Tuck asked under his breath.

“I have no idea,” Opal whispered back. “He should be screaming his head off.”

Brady grabbed his stuffed dog and held it close to his chest, his dark eyes watching them.

Tuck removed his hat and placed it on the nightstand. “Hi there, buddy,” he said. “Feeling better?”

Brady didn’t make a move or a sound.

Tuck held out his hands over the railing. “Want to get out of there for a minute?”

Brady leaned over and bit his fingers.

“Ouch, buddy. That’s not nice.”

“Oh, this is going to be a tough one,” Opal said. “I can see that now. Usually babies who’ve been left alone will go to anyone, but Brady’s doing just the opposite. He’s fighting back at everyone.”

A nurse came in with a sippy cup of milk and Tuck and Opal backed away to let her take care of him. She didn’t have much better luck. Brady hit and bit her, but he took the milk.

Watching Brady, Tuck could almost feel his anger and he knew Brady’s full recovery was going to take time. He’d have to learn to trust again. Tuck was patient and could help Brady—if only the court would let him.

GRACE WAS HAVING A BAD DAY—her second in a row now. It was Jeremiah’s fault. Ever since he’d touched her she’d been having all these feminine feelings distracting her from her work.

Today she went shoe shopping, her passion, on her lunch break and stopped in the lingerie department at Neiman Marcus. She looked at skimpy, silk peignoirs like the ones Caroline used to wear. She’d even bought one. When she planned to wear it, she had no idea. She just enjoyed looking at it and imagining herself wearing it.

If she was really honest with herself, she’d go so far as to admit that she imagined the look in Jeremiah’s eyes when he saw her in it. But being honest with herself made her appear needy and pathetic and…

She had to get Jeremiah out of her head. How did she do that? He was a man and she was a woman, so the logical process would be to have an open and adult conversation. Simple. She chewed on the inside of her lip. Then why did the thought make her feel as if she were being prepped for painful surgery—open heart surgery?

A tap at her door interrupted her agonizing thoughts. “Come in.”

Nina, her secretary, walked in with a notepad in her hand. “You have a partners meeting at two and Mr. Coffey wants to speak to you beforehand.” Nina, a single mother of two, was all business and Grace liked that about her. They had a good working relationship.

Grace leaned back in her chair. “Did he mention what about?”

“No. But it’s either about the day care center you’re opening on the first floor or he wants your support on something.”

Byron Coffey was her father’s age and had joined the firm soon after Steven Whitten had started it. He was the senior partner and he and Grace got along well on the surface for the sake of office morale. Byron’s wife had died years ago and Byron had asked Grace out more than once. She always found a polite way to refuse. In no way was she attracted to Byron, but to maintain a positive atmosphere in the firm she couldn’t tell him that.

Byron had attempted to pressure her on more than one occasion to further his own causes. She always got the impression that he thought of her as a glorified figurehead without any brains. That did not endear him to her. And he was vehemently against the day care for the firm’s employees, as was her father. Grace saw it as cost-effective. Too many times cases had to be postponed or rearranged because a lawyer, clerk, aide or secretary couldn’t find a sitter at the last minute. This way the babies would be nearby and parents wouldn’t have to worry.

Her father had said it wasn’t the firm’s responsibility to provide day care. Grace saw it differently and stuck to her decision. The first time she’d ever gone against her father.

Nina looked at her pad. “There’s a Lisa and Keith Templeton to see you. They said it was important. Would you rather they made an appointment and come back later or…”

“I’ll see them,” she said. “Give me five minutes.”

“You got it.”

Lisa and Keith—she hadn’t seen them in years. Grace reached for her purse and quickly checked her makeup. She and Lisa had been sorority sisters and college roommates. Lisa and Keith had fallen in love in college and were inseparable. After they’d gotten their degrees, both in finance, they’d settled down to raise a family.

Grace had had lunch with Lisa about two years ago and the family part hadn’t happened yet. After a miscarriage, Lisa had been unable to get pregnant again. Grace knew they were still trying.

The door opened and Lisa rushed in, a petite blonde with a sparkly personality. Keith, also blond, followed more slowly. Grace hurried around her desk and they embraced.

Lisa stepped back, perusing Grace’s outfit. “Anne Klein, right?”

Grace glanced down at her herringbone suit. “Yes.” If she and Lisa had anything in common, it was fashion. In college, they’d spent many afternoons shopping together.

“Ellen Tracy,” Grace responded, eyeing Lisa’s ecru linen dress, pearls and heels.

Lisa held out her foot. “And Manolo Blahnik. I bought them in New York. Aren’t they to die for?”

“Absolutely.” Grace had a pair just like them in her closet, but she wouldn’t spoil Lisa’s pleasure.

Keith cleared his throat and Lisa glanced at him. “Oh, Grace, we need your help.”

Grace couldn’t imagine what this was about, but from the expressions on their faces she knew it was serious. They took seats and she waited.

Lisa crossed her legs. “You know we’ve been trying for so long to have a baby. We’ve tried in vitro, everything, and we’ve finally accepted that we’re not going to have a child of our own.” A look of sadness crossed her face.

“I’m sorry,” Grace said, feeling her stomach tighten at Lisa’s pain. “I know how much you wanted a baby.”

“It’s all I ever think about.” Lisa smoothed her skirt over her knees.

Keith reached for his wife’s hand. “It’s okay, honey. Tell Grace why we’re here.”

“Oh.” Lisa’s blue eyes brightened immediately. “We’re going to adopt. We have been approved at several adoption agencies, but the waiting lists are so long.”

“It’ll be worth it, though,” Grace reminded her.

“Yes, but my mother knows a lady who works for CPS and there’s a little boy that might be up for adoption. He’s fourteen months old. We want to be the first ones to apply for this baby and we need your help.”

“Of course. We have a very good family law department and I’ll make sure that…”

“No, no.” Lisa shook her head. “We want you to handle it. You’re the best, Grace. I know you are. You’ll fight for us.”

“Lisa, I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but our family lawyers are very competent.”

“Grace, please,” Keith spoke up. “We’d feel more comfortable with you.”

She looked into their concerned, hopeful eyes. Could she do what they wanted? It had been a while since she’d been in the courtroom. Adrenaline began to pump through her veins and excitement filled her. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe this was what she needed to force her out of her recent malaise. They were her friends and they needed her help.

“Okay. I’ll set things in motion.” She reached for pen and paper. “Let me get some details.”

THE NEXT MORNING Tuck got a call from Gladys Upchurch. He mentored her grandson, Micah, after his father had killed his mother. The father was in prison and Gladys had full custody of Micah, who was now twelve and going through a rough period. Micah didn’t want to go to school because the kids picked on him, calling him names.

Tuck drove to the Upchurch house and took Micah to school. It gave them a chance to talk. That’s what the boy needed—to talk to someone. They made plans to go to a University of Texas baseball game and Micah brightened up. Micah was a good kid; he just needed a guiding hand and to know that someone cared and would always be there for him.

After Micah went inside, Tuck thought it was time to have a talk with the principal to let him know about the problem. The principal said he’d do what he could, but it was hard to control some of the kids. Tuck knew that and had to accept the explanation—for now.

When he reached his office, Opal called. Wilma Harper had passed away. She and her daughter would have one funeral and be buried next to each other. So much heartache and sadness. Tuck hoped they’d found everlasting peace.

That left Brady.

Tuck spent every spare moment he had at the hospital. Brady’s wounds were healing and he wasn’t quite so aggressive, but they had a long way to go. He didn’t speak, only made grunting sounds. Wilma had said he was saying words, but the staff hadn’t seen any signs of that. Neither had Tuck. CPS wanted a complete evaluation of Brady so he was staying in the hospital a while longer.

Brady preferred being alone, playing alone. If anyone got too close, he became aggressive, biting and hitting. He could walk and he enjoyed the playroom, where he could play with the toys at his leisure. Tuck often sat and watched him. Occasionally he’d roll a ball to him and Brady would roll it back. Slowly Tuck was gaining his trust.

Beau called and said he’d filed the papers. Now they waited for a hearing date. Opal told him that they had another applicant file for custody. She didn’t offer a name and he didn’t press her. He would have to take his chances in court.

Beau called at the end of the week and wanted to meet. Tuck didn’t understand why they couldn’t talk on the phone, but he agreed to meet him at a local restaurant. Sliding into the booth, he noticed Beau’s worried expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to tell you in person. A couple has filed a petition for temporary custody pending adoption of Brady.”

A waitress arrived and they ordered coffee.

“Opal mentioned that, but she didn’t give a name.”

“Lisa and Keith Templeton,” Beau said.

The waitress brought coffee. “Thank you,” Tuck said to the waitress as she left.

“With a couple in the picture, it makes our case that much harder to win. They both have spotless backgrounds, good jobs and are respected members of the community. They don’t have other children and the woman plans to quit her job to stay at home with Brady.”

Tuck’s stomach clenched. “It sounds too good to be true.”

Beau took a sip of his coffee. “Mmm. The Templeton’s want Brady badly and they’ve hired a very good attorney to make that happen.”

“Who is it?” Tuck asked.

“Have you talked to Eli or Caroline lately?”

“No. I’ve been spending all my free time at the hospital and with the boys I mentor. Why? Do they know this attorney?”

Beau shifted nervously. “Yes. The Templeton’s attorney is Grace Whitten.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“NINA!”

Grace’s door flew open and Nina rushed in. “What? Did you see another spider?”

Grace sighed heavily. “No.” A grown woman and she was still frightened of spiders. But that was so far at the back of her mind that it didn’t even register. She held up the document in her hand. “When did this arrive?”

“Uh…about an hour ago when you were in a meeting with Mr. Coffey.” Nina frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Grace sank into her chair. “Thank you. I’m sorry I yelled.”

“Sure.” Nina hesitated for a moment then walked out.

Grace stared down at the document. Everything was wrong. Jeremiah Tucker had filed for temporary custody pending adoption of a minor child, Brady Harper. How could this be?

She grabbed the phone and called Caroline. She answered immediately.

“Caroline, did you know that Jeremiah filed for custody of a little boy named Brady Harper?”

“Well, hello, Grace.”

“I’m sorry. I’m a bit stressed at the moment.”

“You’re always stressed,” her sister replied rather bluntly. “But you should see Jesse. He’d destress you quickly. He’s chewing on the phone cord and he’s absolutely the cutest baby in the whole world. Oh, now he’s looking at me with those big blue eyes, just like Eli’s.”

“Caroline, please. I need to talk about this.”

“Okay. Okay. Give me a minute to put Jesse in his Pack ’n Play.”

Grace drummed her fingers on her spotless silver-and-glass desk. The phone was to her right with a pad and pen beside it, Jeremiah’s petition lay in front of her and to her left sat a crystal Whitten paperweight her father had given her when she’d graduated at the top of her class. Suddenly it all seemed so sterile, so unemotional. Was that how people saw her?

“Now, what’s bothering you?” Caroline’s voice brought her back to her present situation.

“Did you know about Jeremiah adopting this child?”

“Yes. Eli told me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wasn’t aware you were interested in Tuck’s life.”

Grace took a breath. “Caroline, this is important.”

“Yes. I can hear, but I don’t know what you’re so upset about. Everyone who knows Tuck is aware of his plans. He’s a member of Big Brothers and he’s always been involved with helping kids. That’s Tuck. He’s very dedicated to the plight of abandoned and neglected children. It’s important to him.”

“I know, but why this little boy?”

“Tuck was one of the officers who found him in a trailer living like an animal. His mother and father are both dead and no one in the family wants him. Tuck has formed a connection to the boy, probably because of the circumstances of his own birth.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Do you think he’ll make a good father?”

“Of course, but I’m not sure how he plans to work things out. He has a full-time job and according to Eli this little boy is going to need a lot of attention. But Tuck is very organized and, as I said, dedicated. He’ll make it work.” Caroline paused. “Why are you asking all these questions?”

“Remember Lisa Gates from college?”

“Yes. You and she were good friends. I remember a lot of shopping marathons. She married Keith something.”

“Templeton. They have been trying to have a child for a long time and it hasn’t happened so they’ve decided to adopt. But it takes a long time.”

“Where’s this going?” Caroline asked.

“I’ve agreed to represent them in gaining custody of a little boy.”

“So?”

“The little boy is Brady Harper.”

“Ooooh.”

“I just found out. I wasn’t even aware that Jeremiah knew this boy.” She had a strong urge to ask her older sister what to do, as she had so many times in her life. But she’d outgrown that. She’d handle this in her own way.

“Grace…” Jesse’s wailing drowned out Caroline’s words. “I’ve got to go. I think Jesse is running a little fever with the teething. Come here, sweetie.” A louder wail ensued.

“Take care of Jesse.”

“Grace…”

“I’ll call you later.”

Grace sat for a moment, wondering what she was going to do. Lisa and Keith were her friends, but Jeremiah was part of her family. For years she’d waited for him to see her as someone other than Caroline’s sister. If she stayed with this case, any hopes of that happening would be over.

Loud noises erupted from Nina’s office. The door suddenly opened and Jeremiah stood there, an agitated Nina behind him.

“It’s okay,” she said to Nina, and stood on legs that felt like wet noodles.

Nina backed out, closing the door.

Jeremiah removed his hat, showing off his neat and trim brown hair. He was angry; that was evident in his taut body and his dark eyes, which burned like chunks of coal. He stood a few feet from the door, not making a move toward her.

“Why are you doing it?” he asked. His words were clipped and short.

She didn’t have to ask what he was talking about because she knew. It took a moment to find her voice. “I wasn’t aware you’d filed for custody of Brady Harper.” One finger touched the papers on her desk. “I just found out.”

His eyes narrowed. “Would it have made a difference?” Before she could answer, he went on. “No. It wouldn’t have. Ever since we’ve met you’ve had this need to stick it to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When Eli and Caroline got married, you had to be in control of everything.”

“I wanted their day to be perfect.”

“I was best man and I wanted it to be a day they would remember as fun and filled with laughter. But everything had to be synchronized and go according to plan. You never listened to any of my ideas. Everything had to be done your way. You couldn’t even let your guard down long enough to enjoy the dance. You were afraid I’d step on your five-hundred-dollar shoes. My God, who pays five hundred dollars for a pair of shoes?”

Each word cut into her like a sharp blow. “Jeremiah…”

“That’s another thing.” He pointed a finger at her. “You continue to call me Jeremiah. No one calls me that. It’s like a slap in my face every time you do. Evidently you get some perverse pleasure out of it.”

She was stunned. She never knew he resented her use of his given name. For a moment she was absolutely speechless.

“After Ma and Pa adopted me, I was given the Tucker name. They were so happy to have a child that they called me Little Tucker. When I started to grow, Pa said, ‘Boy, we can’t call you little anymore. We’re going to call you Tuck. That suits you.’ I felt like a king had given me a crown. I had no name, but this incredible man had given me this special gift and it meant the world to me. It still does. When you don’t use it, I feel you’re condescending to me.”

Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I like the name Jeremiah.”

“See.” He shook his head. “It’s all about you. You don’t even care what I like.”

“I…ah…” She had no words to defend herself. In his eyes she was a self-centered bitch and seeing his view of her she couldn’t deny it. Many of her hang-ups became crystal clear at that moment. She had to be smart, in control, organized and an overachiever because if she wasn’t, the real Grace would emerge.

The real Grace? She wondered who the real Grace was.

“Brady has been through hell and he needs someone to love and care for him. I don’t know anything about the Templetons and…”

“They’re very nice people.” She wanted him to know that.

“So Beau tells me. They sound picture-perfect.” His eyes caught hers. “But there’s always something wrong with picture-perfect.”

“Are you saying…”

“A judge will decide,” he told her. “He will do what’s best for Brady and I will abide by that.”

She hated that he made her feel so guilty, so weak, and her fighting spirit surfaced. “You think you’re what’s best for Brady?”

His eyes darkened even more if that were possible. “Are you questioning my abilities as a father?”

“I’m questioning your abilities as a single father. Brady needs security and someone who is there for him twenty-four hours a day. Lisa and Keith can provide that. Can you?”

He watched her for a moment and she resisted the urge to fidget. “So you’re going to make a case of a married couple verses a single man?”

“I’m sorry, but yes.”

“You know, I kind of thought you might recuse yourself to preserve family harmony. Guess I was wrong, huh?” He placed his hat on his head. “I would prefer it if you and I had no contact. If you’re at Eli and Caroline’s, I won’t go over and I’d appreciate the same courtesy. But knowing you, Grace, I’m sure you’ll do whatever you please.” He turned and walked out.

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